


Together

by octopies



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Adventure, Best Friends, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hodgkins is like a father figure to the three, Moominpappa is just called Moomin throughout this whole thing, The Muddler has anxiety but Joxter and Moomin understand and care about him, There wasn’t enough writings about these three so I decided to provide, Theres a lot of friendly affection shared between the three, This is before Moominpappa found Moominmamma and before Muddler met the Fuzzy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 20:22:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19027252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octopies/pseuds/octopies
Summary: Having not been living on the island for very long, Moomin and his two best friends, the Joxter and the Muddler, decide to have an adventure out in the woods. Unfamiliar with their surroundings, and without the help of anyone looking out for them, they end up getting lost and have to find their way back home together.





	Together

Sounds of footsteps traveled through an otherwise silent forest as three boys ran, crushing twigs and leaves beneath their feet as they hurried along. The sun was coming close to its setting position in the sky, and pretty soon it would be dark.

“Come along now! Hurry!” the leader of the group ushered his friends as the little plump, white creature darted through the woods. He turned his head to look back at his friends as he ran, blinking brown eyes. “It will be dark soon—we mustn’t stay out much longer.”

“Do you even know where we’re going?” a different voice spoke up, a question in his voice that went unanswered by the white creature.

“My feet are getting tired,” came the final voice as the source lagged behind the other two, dragging along a large tin can by a rope. “Are we almost there, Moomin?”

The white creature, otherwise known as Moomin, stopped in his tracks so abruptly that his other two friends bumped into him, nearly toppling him over but they were quick to steady him on his feet. ”I don’t know where we are,” he finally admitted with a warm smile that held no worry to it at all. “But that’s what adventure is about! Oh, isn’t it exciting!”

The boy with the tin can peered up at the sky, eyebrows furrowed in worry underneath his silly hat that was just a pot. “But—But Moomin, Hodgkins said to be back before nightfall!”

“Oh, don’t worry, silly,” Moomin spoke, trying to reassure his fretful friend. “If we are truly lost, the King always has an eye on us! How do you think we settled here to begin with? Isn’t that right, Joxter?”

“Mm.” The Joxter tipped his red hat, looking at the darkening sky with curious blue eyes, his pupils dilating from slits. “Yes..That is, if he’s at his telescope. The King doesn’t always have the time to watch what’s going on constantly, you know?”

“Yes, well—“

“I think we’re on our own on this one,” Joxter admitted, his tone casual. He placed a paw on the shoulder of his close friend with the tin can. “I wouldn’t worry, Muddler. After all, we have each other.”

The Muddler glanced at his blue eyed friend and frowned. “How relieving,” he joked, his squeaky voice laced with teasing sarcasm as he took a paw and playfully moved Joxter’s paw off his shoulder. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The Joxter let out a laugh, his fangs poking out from his mouth. He playfully bumped his forehead against the Muddler’s—or, against his pot rather. This show of friendly affection made the Muddler snort, playfully pushing him away, the interaction easing his anxiety, even if it was only temporarily. Moomin watched his best friends and smiled, padding over towards them.

“As much as I’d love to stop and play,” the plump white creature began. “We must hurry! Oh, Hodgkins must be worried sick.”

The Joxter shrugged his shoulders and one of Muddler’s long ears twitched, his anxiety returning. “I’m sure he’s not too worried. He knows we’re all capable adventurers,” the Joxter spoke to his round friend. He then shot a playful glance to the Muddler behind narrowed blue eyes. “Or, at least most of us are.”

The Muddler puffed his cheeks out in a pout, “I’m perfectly capable! At least I don’t laze around all the time.”

Moomin began walking again and his friends followed behind. He listened in on their playful banter, smiling. The Joxter seemed to be keeping the Muddler busy with the teasing conversation to distract their friend from his anxiety and Moomin was glad for that so that they could comfortably move along without having anyone scared or frightened. He wondered how long exactly that would last, though.

As Moomin padded through the forest with curious steps, he pushed aside large leaves and reeds out of his way. He observed his surroundings, trying to spot an area that was familiar, even in the tiniest of ways, but there was no luck. He had no idea where they were, or how they’d even gotten lost here to begin with. Behind him, the conversation died down and fell silent, and Moomin nervously turned around to look behind him as his friends returned his gaze silently.

“…We’re lost, aren’t we?” the Joxter broke the silence, his questioning blue gaze burning into Moomin’s fur. He felt his skin heat up in embarrassment.

“Oh, now, Joxter, I wouldn’t say that…We—“

“Yeah, we’re lost,” the Joxter interrupted to answer his own question with a loud sigh. Despite the circumstances, the cat-like creature remained calm. Whether it was a façade, or truly just within the Mumrik’s nature, neither of the others could tell.

“Lost?!” the Muddler exclaimed, looking at the two fretfully. “We can’t be lost! Oh, no…”

“Hey, hey, don’t worry!” the Joxter was quick to comfort his friend and try to calm him. The last thing they needed right now in this situation was a freak out. “Don’t worry, alright? We’ll find our way back. We’re on the island after all, and we know it’s safe.”

Moomin nodded, walking up to his two taller friends. He wrapped an arm around one of the Muddler’s, while the Joxter did the same to their friend’s other arm. “Joxter’s right!” Moomin spoke gently with a smile. “The King would never allow any harm on his island.”

“I suppose he’s not watching us,” the Joxter hummed as the three friends walked along, the tin can rattling as it was dragged along. They walked close together, holding onto each other’s arms. Their grasps eventually moved downwards until they were holding paws, with Muddler in the middle while the Joxter and Moomin held his paws. The rope that was tied to the tin can was being held between Muddler’s and Moomin’s paws.

“I guess we can’t expect him to watch everyone constantly,” Moomin mused as he looked up at the sky. The moon was beginning to rise high, only a hint of orange off in the distance above the horizon. Soon, the sky would be completely dark. “He is only one person after all. There’s a lot of us…perhaps he doesn’t know we went out.”

“I’ve never met such a kind man,” the Muddler spoke his thoughts, his voice quivering slightly. He was trying to hold back most visible signs of his anxiety, and his friends could tell. His long tail twitched anxiously, swishing back and forth, almost hitting his friends’ backs. Then, his tail began thumping against the floor as they walked while he thought about his uncle. “Do you think Hodgkins will be mad at us? Or upset? Disappointed? He’s probably so worried right now!”

Moomin and the Joxter comfortingly twisted their tails around the Muddler’s and the thumping ceased. Affectionately, all three had their tails tangled together while two of them tried to soothe their anxious friend. 

“Don’t worry now, Muddler,” Moomin spoke warmly, his voice almost hushed. “Hodgkins would never get mad at us! Worried, though…I don’t know. I’m sure he probably is.”

“I’m tired, Moomin,” the Joxter yawned. “Would it be wrong if we stopped to rest?”

“No, but…” Moomin frowned in thought. He felt the Muddler’s grip around his paw tighten for a short moment before his grasp relaxed. He looked at the sky again. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to stop for a bit. I’m kind of worn. But we need to be back up on our hind paws as soon as possible.”

The Joxter nodded in response and looked around with a small grumble. “Hm. We don’t have any stuff to rest on. It might be a little uncomfortable.”

Moomin turned to the Muddler, still holding one of his brown paws. “Are you alright, Muddler? Is this okay?”

The Muddler nodded, albeit hesitantly. “My feet hurt. A small break is okay.” He let go of the Joxter’s and Moomin’s paws, moving towards his tin can. He stopped, looking back at his two friends. “…Stay close, though, okay?”

“Of course,” the other two responded together, the high voice and slightly deeper voice mixing and sounding together smoothly.

The Muddler had begun to climb up his can when he stopped. “Um, I know there’s a lot of stuff in here,” he began, looking at his friends nervously. “But I have a little more room for you two…If you’d like?” His tail twitched anxiously, the offer more like a request. He wanted his friends to be close so he could feel as safe as possible.

“That would be lovely,” Moomin smiled at him and turned to their Mumrik friend. “Won’t you join us?”

Joxter nodded, crossing over to the can with Moomin as the Muddler began to open the lid and hop in. “Sure. I must say, it won’t be comfortable, though.”

“Oh, as long as we’re together, I’m sure it’s fine!” Moomin said as he climbed up and crawled inside, followed by the Joxter. Moomin landed on top of the Muddler and the creature beneath him yelped, then yelped again when the Joxter jumped in to join them, falling on Moomin.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Muddler!” Moomin’s words came out hurried as he stared down at his friend beneath him, slightly dazed. The white creature tried to move off of his friend but the Joxter was lying on his stomach on top of his back, glancing down at the predicament his two friends were in with a sly, playful grin. Moomin struggled, trying to get the cat-like creature off his back while also trying to move off of the Muddler’s stomach. “Joxter!”

“I think I’m rather comfortable here, Moomin,” the Joxter spoke, his voice laced with mock sleepiness. He forced out a playful yawn and began kneading the white fur underneath him, careful to keep his claws sheathed so he wouldn’t hurt the troll. “In fact, you’re very soft…Softer than a cloud. I’d very much like to fall asleep here.”

“Well I’m not comfortable!” Muddler huffed from beneath the two of them, staring up at them. His pot had fallen off his head, revealing tufts of brown fur on his head. “You two are very heavy!”

Moomin got an idea suddenly. With a devilish grin he heaved himself up with all the strength he had, sitting up. This sudden movement made the Joxter roll off his back and land in the mixture of junk beneath them with a loud clatter of different things. This made the other two laugh while Joxter lifted himself up with a playful expression of irritation, his hat falling off and leaving him with a messy mop of thick, long, dark brown hair.

“Got you,” Moomin giggled, sitting up so that he wasn’t completely leaning on Muddler, sitting on his friend’s lap. “That’s what you get for laying on me!” 

The Joxter stood up, dusting off his long green top. “I was comfortable. Now I have to lay in all this…stuff. How exactly do you live with all this trash, Muddler?” His last sentence was filled with genuine wonder.

“They’re not trash! All of this means very much to me. Look…Excuse me, Moomin,” the Muddler patted the top of Moomin’s knee and the creature moved to get off of his lap, settling himself on a pile of stuff close to where the Joxter stood. The Muddler sat up and moved to his knees, digging around in his belongings until his paws came in contact with what he was looking for. “Ah hah!”

The two watched as he pulled out a box from underneath the piles. Joxter tilted his head curiously. “A box?”

“A collection box, silly!” the Muddler smiled as he opened it. Inside was a bunch of buttons stored away neatly in little slots, though some were messily scattered outside of the slots. “My button collection!” 

“Wow!” Moomin got down on his paws and knees next to the Muddler, peering into the box with wide, beaming eyes. “You’ve talked about it many times, but you’ve never actually showed us!” Even this was enough to catch the curiosity of Joxter as he knelt down beside the two, looking at the box with a slightly open mouth.

The Muddler nodded excitedly, proud of his collection and overjoyed to talk about something he was passionate about. “Hodgkins made me this box! He said I’m always losing my stuff and I need something to keep up with my things. Though I’m still a bit messy…Sometimes I forget to use it. I’m sure I have a few buttons lying around in this can, in fact…”

“We can help you organize them!” Moomin offered with a smile as he looked up at his friend.

“Oh, really? You would?” Muddler returned the smile as he looked lovingly at his two friends. He wrapped his arms around both of them in a tight hug and they returned the embrace. “Thank you!”

The Joxter was the first to pull away as he began digging through the junk. He pulled out any little round object his paws touched, already having a few buttons in his palms just within a minute. He looked down at the box that had already been opened, watching as Moomin was organizing the buttons that were already in there, putting scattered ones into slots. “You sure do have a lot of buttons. Got any more of those boxes? I don’t think they’re going to fit.”

“Oh! Yes, Hodgkins made me a few spare ones in case I ran out of room!” the Muddler responded as he began digging through his belongings, pulling out a few more identical boxes. On all of his boxes, his name was carved neatly into the wood on the front. He handed one off to Joxter as the Mumrik began sorting the buttons he had found. He wasn’t one to be neat or tidy—in fact, he was also someone of very little belongings—but he would do anything to help out his friend. Especially if it was alleviating their fretful friend’s anxiety. The three continued with digging through his stuff in attempts to find scattered parts of the Muddler’s collection so they could store it away. They stopped after a while when they kept bringing their paws up empty-handed.

“I think we got all of them,” Moomin spoke finally with a smile, handing off the second box to the Muddler. They had only managed to fill it a little bit. 

“Thank you, guys!” the Muddler took the box with a genuine, grateful smile, and clutched his boxes tightly to his chest. “Now they’re all neat and organized—oh, thank you! I’ll try to keep it up as much as possible!”

“We can always help you organize them anytime!” Moomin offered with a grin.

“May we see them again?” Joxter asked, blue eyes curiously looking at the boxes. The Muddler nodded and opened up the two boxes that had his buttons in them.

“Look at this one!” the Muddler took out a rather large yellow button. He held it between his fingers, holding it up in his vision in front of the Joxter. “This would go nicely with the rest of your clothes! Why don’t you have it?”

The Joxter grinned, his tail swishing from side to side as he took the button on his paws, inspecting it. “Oh, I love this one, Muddler.” He pocketed it for safe keeping.

“We can sew buttons into our clothes!”

“But I don’t wear any clothes, silly,” Moomin piped up with a giggle.

“I’m sure there’s a way,” Muddler shrugged his shoulders with a grin. He returned to his button collection and looked through the slotted rows. “Oh! Here’s one for you, Moomin!” He pulled out a light brown button that looked like solidified honey.

“It’s very pretty!” Moomin gasped as he took ahold of the button and it sat on his paw pads. “Why this one, Muddler?”

“It’s like your eyes!” the Muddler responded with a small smile. “Now, how are we going to get this thing on you…?”

“I know you’re not going to sew it into my skin, that’s for sure,” Moomin giggled. 

“Of course not! Do we have anything in here?”

The Muddler’s searching prompted the Joxter to begin searching as well to help out their friend. His dark brown paws came in contact with a wide, soft thread, and he pulled it out of the pile. “What about this?”

The Muddler looked up at what the Joxter was holding. It was a long pink ribbon. “Oh, a ribbon! How perfect, Joxter, this will do nicely! Thank you!” With excited paws, he took it and inspected it. “Yes, we can sew the button onto here!”

“And how am I going to wear it?” Moomin asked with a curious tilt of his head to the side. The Muddler crawled forward and settled on his knees behind the white troll. He took the pink ribbon in his hands and wrapped it around Moomin’s neck. The troll giggled at the feeling of the ribbon on his fur and the occasional brush of paws as they worked with the material. “That tickles!”

“Be still,” the Muddler laughed as he began tying a large bow in the back. When he was finished, he scooted away. “How about that?”

“I think I look rather nice,” Moomin grinned. “Or I can’t exactly see, but…I’m sure I do!”

“It isn’t too tight, is it? Would you rather it be on your tail?”

“No, this is just fine, thank you! How will we get the button on?”

The Muddler ran the ear of the ribbon between his fingers in thought, feeling the soft material. “We could sew a button on here. Or around the length of it?”

“How would we sew them to begin with?” the Joxter began with a curious glance towards the pile of junk. “Surely you don’t have any threads and needles in here…do you?”

The Muddler shrugged his shoulders. “I keep sharp stuff flat at the very bottom just to be safe. I collect a lot of stuff, you never know.”

The Joxter only nodded as he dug his paw into the piles, carefully searching around for something. He came across a sewing kit in a box with untouched full things of thread, as well as some unused intact yarn balls. The yarn balls made his eyes dilate slightly, but he found everything within his body to force himself to ignore them.

The Muddler noticed his reaction and giggled, taking a yarn ball in his paw and throwing it towards the Mumrik. “You can play with them, Joxter. I don’t mind.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“We know each other, we don’t mind! Right, Moomin?”

Moomin looked up from playing with his ribbon, looking over at their Mumrik friend. “Why, yes! I think it’s rather cute.”

The Joxter’s face heated up with embarrassment as a strong blush spread across his face and he grumbled, hiding his smile when he tipped his hat to cover his face partially. Wordlessly, he handed Muddler the sewing kit.

The Muddler laughed and scooted closer to Moomin as he began to sew his button onto the ribbon wrapped around his neck. Once he was finished, he sat back on his haunches, admiring his work. “Oh, I wish you could see it, Moomin! It looks wonderful! I wonder if I have a mirror in here…?”

“Don’t worry about it, Muddler! I’ll see it soon enough. Thank you!”

Muddler only smiled and crawled over to the Joxter who was leaned back against one of the walls of the can, tossing a ball of yarn up into the air and catching it. It was unwinded only slightly. “Where would you like me to put your button, Joxter?”

The Joxter shrugged his shoulders. “My shirt maybe?”

“Oh! What about your hat?”

“Hmm, yes, I suppose that will do.”

The Muddler grinned excitedly as his friend took off his hat and handed it over. He sat down beside the Joxter, pressing close to his side and leaning on him as he idly worked away with the hat, threading a needle through the material to sew the yellow button in. When he was finished, he placed it back on his friend’s head. “There!” 

“Oh, Muddler, do you have a button too?” Moomin asked as he began carrying his collection boxes towards the two. “You don’t, do you? Can me and Joxter pick one out for you?”

“Okay!”

The white troll sat down as he handed Joxter one of the boxes and they began to look through the organized collection. They took out random buttons, holding it up in their sight next to the Muddler so they could see if they fit, before shaking their heads and putting it back in their slots.

“Oh, what about this one, Moomin!” the Joxter spoke up after awhile, holding up a pink button. He held it in his palm towards the white troll and Moomin took it, holding it up next to their other friend.

“This would be lovely!” Moomin smiled. “It’ll go so nicely with your scarf—can I sew it on?”

The Muddler gave him a wordless answer as he took off his scarf and handed it over. Moomin took it and began working away, sewing the button into the fabric. Once he was finished, he returned it to the owner and Muddler wrapped it back around his neck.

“Now we all have matching buttons,” Moomin smiled happily. “Are you sure you’re okay with us keeping these, Muddler? We can always undo them and give them back.”

“Of course you can keep them! You’re my friends after all,” the Muddler responded. “I picked them out for you, so they’re special and they’re all yours!”

The Joxter interrupted any further conversation when he let out a yawn, one that was real this time. “I’m starting to get tired. But I suppose it’s time we should probably start walking now?”

“…I don’t really want to go just yet. Maybe we could take a little nap. Is that alright with you, Muddler?”

“I’m okay with that, Moomin,” the Muddler responded. He crawled away from the two and grabbed the blanket and pillow he usually slept with. “…You two are going to stay in here, right?”

“Of course!” Moomin reassured him while the Joxter only nodded, starting to doze off. 

“Good! I can share my blanket. I only have one pillow, though…”

“That’s okay, Muddler. Now come over here and join us! We can have a sleepover!”

“Tin can sleepover?” the Joxter murmured sleepily, his eyes closed, as he snorted softly at Moomin’s words. This made the other two laugh. The Muddler scooted close, settling on Joxter’s side while Moomin pressed close on the other side of him. Comfortable, Moomin began to yawn, his snout pressed against the back of the Mumrik that had already let sleep take over him.

“Moomin?” a soft squeaky voice came in the silence of the night.

“Yes, Muddler?”

“Do you think Hodgkins will be mad at us?”

“No..he’s not one to get mad…Are you okay?”

“Yes—just…” there was a soft sniffle. “I miss him—Or, I mean, I don’t know…I guess I’m just worried.”

Moomin sat up slightly, peering over the sleeping form of Joxter to look at his other friend. He couldn’t see much, however, for his face was buried in his arms as he curled up on his side, facing the Mumrik. “Muddler?”

“Yes?”

There was a short pause of silence. “…We’ll leave as soon as possible, okay? Why don’t you rest for now? A well needed nap will take your mind off of it.”

“You’re right—thank you, Moomin,” the Muddler sighed softly as he pressed closer to the Joxter, his face almost nuzzled into the shoulder of his friend. His movement made the Mumrik murmur in his sleep.

“You know, I always forget Hodgkins is your uncle,” Moomin spoke softly after a bit of silence, making sure to keep his voice hushed as to not disturb their sleeping friend in the middle. 

“Yeah. He’s more like a father to me.”

“To me and Joxter too…He really cares about us. I’m glad I met him. If I’d never met him, then…”

“You would have never met us?”

Moomin smiled. “Yeah. I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.”

The Muddler only laughed fondly, his voice slightly muffled by the fabric of Joxter’s coat. “Go to sleep, Moomin.” He lifted himself and raised a paw, shutting the lid of the can above them. His only response was a wordless hum of acknowledgement as the two began to drift off to sleep, letting their tiredness take over them as they slept soundly in the pitch black darkness.

 

Moomin awoke about an hour later to a gentle consistent sound filling the closed can. He sat up sleepily, rubbing his eyes with a drowsy, soft groan. “Is it morning…?” he wondered aloud quietly as he got to his feet and lifted the lid of the can slightly, only to see a dark, starry sky above them. He closed the lid back and sat down. “Guess not…”

The soft sound only rumbled on from within the can, confusing the white troll. Where was it coming from? His silent question was answered when the troll laid a paw on the Joxter to wake him up, but was met with a soft vibration against his paw. With a grin, he quietly got up and crawled over to the Muddler, beginning to shake him awake softly.

“M-Moomin?” the Muddler rolled over onto his back, sleepily looking up at his friend. He rubbed his eyes with a soft yawn. “What time is it…is it time to go?”

“Not yet, Muddler,” Moomin assured, his voice hushed. “Shh, get up, get up! And try to be quiet, too, you’ve got to hear this!”

“Huh? What’s going on?” the Muddler asked, but did what he was told anyways, quietly getting to his knees and scooting over towards Moomin. The white troll pointed towards the Joxter and the Muddler followed his finger with his gaze, looking at their cat-like friend. “What?”

“He’s purring!” Moomin wanted to exclaim, but did his best to stay quiet, his brown eyes beaming with glee. “Joxter is purring!”

Muddler got down close, his large, floppy ear twitching as he listened closely and silently, picking up on the soft rumble coming from the Mumrik’s chest. He sat back on his haunches, a paw pressed to his mouth to stifle the giggle that dared escape.

Before they could say anything else, the purring stopped, and was replaced by a low grumble as Joxter began to stir. He reached out a paw, feeling the empty space where the Muddler had been lying previously, and then feeling the empty space on the other side of him where Moomin had been. With another grumble, he lifted himself up, drowsy narrowed—almost closed—eyes blinking over at where the two sat. “Guys. Come back, I’m not comfortable. I want to sleep.” With a huff, he laid down on his stomach, curling his body inwards. When he spoke next, his voice was muffled by the sleeve of his top. “Why are you up, anyways? Surely we’re not leaving now…”

“No, not yet, Joxter! It’s just…” Moomin’s voice cut off with a giggle that was shared with the Muddler. The Joxter only twitched an ear, signaling he was listening, but there was no further response. “We were just..well…It’s just—Joxter, you were purring!”

The Joxter’s head shot up to look at them and a deep, furious blush overtook his cheeks, heating up his skin. The reaction made his two friends laugh and the Joxter lowered his head, shoving it back into his sleeve, trying to hide his embarrassment. 

“It’s okay, Joxter!” Moomin quickly tried to reassure him, crawling over to him. He laid down with his upper torso laying on top of the Mumrik’s back while the lower half of him hung off beside him. He laid on his stomach with this arms crossed underneath his chin, resting his head. “In fact, it’s cute!”

“Shut up…” 

“What? It is! Do all Mumriks do that? Oh, I wish I could purr.”

“Moomin,” the Joxter’s voice sounded, cutting off his dear friend’s rambling as the Mumrik rolled over on his back, looking up at his friend with a toothy, fang-filled grin, an idea on mind. The single, pointed word was the only warning he got when the Joxter wrapped his arms around the creature’s neck, pulling him into a playful wrestle. “Shut up!”

Moomin shrieked with laughter as the Mumrik wrestled him down. “I’m not taking back what I said!”

The two friends wrestled for a bit while the Muddler watched on, grinning at them. Once they were done, they separated, out of breath. Moomin leaned against the wall of the can, resting. He asked, “Have you always purred?”

“Yes, it’s just something Mumriks do.”

“Why?”

Joxter hummed. “A lot of different reasons. Mostly we do it if we’re happy or comfortable.”

Moomintroll grinned, eyes lighting up. “Aw, Joxter, you sap! You love us!”

The Joxter rolled his eyes fondly. “Yes, yes, that’s why you two happened to wake me up whenever you left my side to make fun of me while I was sleeping.”

“Oh, hush, we weren’t making fun of you,” Muddler spoke up with a playful smile.

Joxter huffed and grinned. “Come here, you two.” When they did as asked, he pulled them both into a hug.

“I love you guys,” Moomin sighed happily into the embrace. “You’re my best friends. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You think we should head out now?” the Muddler asked as he was squeezed tightly by their Mumrik friend.

“No. I’m still tired and I want to sleep,” Joxter spoke plainly with a yawn. He had already leaned back and shut his eyes, his arms still wrapped around his friends. “Is that alright?”

“Well, even if I said no…You’re falling asleep anyways,” the Muddler giggled, jabbing a finger into the Joxter’s side playfully. All the Mumrik did was stir, swiping a paw at Muddler’s paw with a small grumble. “Yes, it’s fine.”

The two friends settled down, pressing close to the Joxter’s sides, resting their heads on his arms while he had them wrapped around their necks. They drifted back into a comforting sleep, though it didn’t last for long.

 

The Joxter woke up from a sudden feeling against his side. Just as soon as he felt the sensation, it disappeared for a short moment, only to come back, then leave again, and repeat. It took him a bit to realize something was hitting against his side.

“Mrr?” he let out a confused cat-like noise as he sat up. He had been curled up on his stomach and at some point in the night the Mumrik had climbed on top of Moomin and laid on his chest. The troll never seemed to notice, or if he did he didn’t care, as he slept soundly beneath the Joxter. 

The sensation continued to tap against his side over and over and he looked over at the Muddler. The Muddler was lying on his stomach, pressed against Moomin’s side, filling the space where Joxter had once laid before he moved on top of his friend. The Muddler’s long, brown tail was in the air, swishing from side to side as one of his hind legs kicked. The Joxter assumed his friend was dreaming, though it didn’t look very peaceful. As the tail swished, it would come in contact with Joxter’s side, thumping him, therefore answering his previous questions on what had awoken him.

The Joxter silently wondered if he should wake his friend up, but decided against it. He didn’t know how much longer he could put up with the tail wagging, though. If he stayed and let it persist, he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep. If he moved off of Moomin, then the sleeping white troll would fall victim to the consistent thumping. He didn’t have the heart to wake his friend up. There was no winning in this situation.

His ears perked forward when he heard a soft whimper come from beside him, his eyes searching his friend’s face as much as he could. The Muddler’s facial expression appeared worried and anxious, mixed in with bits of sadness. He even saw a tear or two slip. Not wanting to see his friend upset, even if he was just dreaming, he gently climbed off of Moomin and crawled over to the other side where his friend was laying. Carefully, and rather hesitantly, he placed tender paws on the Muddler’s side and delicately shook him.

“Muddler? Muddler, wake up,” the Joxter spoke with a soft, hushed voice. “Wake up, Muddler.”

“H-Huh?” the Muddler was snapped out of his dream as his body began to wake up. He blinked open tired eyes, darkness flooding his vision for he had not adjusted to the lack of light within the closed can they slept in. “Joxter? Where…”

“Shh,” the Joxter hushed him calmly. “I’m right here beside you. Are you okay?”

The Muddler turned towards where the voice was coming from, blinking his eyes. He could see just the hints of large, light blue eyes staring back at him with concern. “Y-Yeah I just…had a nightmare.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yeah, it was just…” the Muddler struggled on his words as his voice squeaked softly, feeling rather embarrassed. He wiped at his eyes with his arms, clearing away any tears that threatened to spill from when he had cried in his sleep. The Joxter touched him gently on his arm and shoulder, resting his paws there, comforting him. “I just had a dream that—we never returned to Hodgkins, and as much as we tried we were just lost forever and it seemed like…no matter how much we got close to him, he got farther and farther.”

It seemed like the Joxter had underestimated how anxious his friend was about their current situation. “Hm. You must miss home something terrible.”

What exactly could be defined as their home? The island as a whole—or where they resided individually? “Yes…I do.”

The Joxter ran a paw down his arm from his shoulder, then moved to rub his back soothingly. “We’ll be home soon enough, alright?” The Muddler’s tail wagged slightly.

The Muddler pulled his legs up, hugging his knees to his chest. “You don’t think we’re lost forever, right?”

“Of course not. Even if we didn’t make it back on our own, the King would spot us eventually.”

A figure beside the two began to stir, awakening from the soft sounds of voices speaking that filled the small can. Even as much as they were quiet, their voices carried along the tin walls. The two looked over as Moomin sat up, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

“Hello,” Moomin greeted with a yawn. “Good morning…is it even morning?”

“I believe it’s still a good hour or two into midnight, my friend.”

“Oh…Why are you two up?”

The Joxter looked at the Muddler, who nodded, answering his silent question with permission. The Mumrik turned back to look at Moomin. “Muddler had a nightmare.”

Moomin got on his knees and scooted closer to the two, a look of worry on his face with a frown. “Oh my, are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Muddler smiled, placing a reassuring paw on top of Moomin’s. “I’m okay now.”

Moomin bumped his snout against Muddler’s cheek comfortingly. “I’m glad you’re okay! Want to go back to sleep?”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to, if I’m being honest,” Muddler confessed, even with the yawn that came out of his mouth.

“Me neither,” Joxter spoke up, his tail flicking. “I got woken up by Muddler’s tail wagging and hitting against my side.”

“Ah! I didn’t realize! I’m sorry, Joxter, I—“

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Joxter interrupted with a genuine smile and pressed his forehead against Muddler’s, a Mumrik expression of his affection. “I didn’t say that I minded.” 

“Okay, so you think we should start moving again? The King surely won’t be awake to find us still, but if we make it back within the night, maybe we can arrive before anyone notices. Besides Hodgkins, that is…Oh, you don’t think he’s alerted the whole island, do you?” Moomin tilted his head curiously.

“Surely not…He would surely wait a little longer before doing something like that,” the Joxter frowned, hoping his words were correct. He didn’t want a fuss over him when they got back. “He trusts us.”

“You’re right. Alright, let’s start moving guys!”

The Joxter turned to Muddler, “How about you stay in here for now? Me and Moomin can drag the can along. You should rest.”

“I’m not tired, though!”

“You don’t have to be asleep, I just mean you should do whatever it takes to feel safe while we find our way back. Being closed in the can surrounded by your stuff would help, right?”

Moomin looked back at the two while he had begun climbing the walls of the can, lifting the lid to climb out. “Joxter’s right! Just stay in here for a bit and we’ll handle everything, okay?”

“…Yeah, I suppose so. Thanks, guys.” The Muddler rubbed his arm, a little embarrassed, but it wasn’t in a bad way. He was just glad his friends cared so much about him and his comfort.

With another bump to his forehead, the Joxter parted from their friend and joined Moomin outside, who had already hopped down from the can. The Mumrik sat, perched on top of the rim of the can. “Would you like me to close the lid, Muddler?”

“No, it’s okay. I’d like to be able to talk to you guys if that’s alright,” he answered. “I’ll close it if I ever need to.”

“Of course,” the Joxter smiled and hopped down, landing beside Moomin. The two shared a quick moment as the Joxter leaned down only slightly to press his forehead against Moomin’s in greeting and the two took the rope to the can in their paws, dragging it along through the forest.

As the two walked along with the third inside the can, the two friends made small talk amongst themselves while the Muddler listened in, giving in his own input whenever it was needed, feeling safe within the comforts of his tin can and knowing his friends cared about him. They didn’t know if they still had a rather long journey up ahead, but they hoped that everyone back at home wasn’t worried about them. They’d make it back home soon enough.

Hopefully.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please enjoy!


End file.
